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Summary
Every hand held secrets, things that it had done that perhaps no one knew about. Personal moments, memories of the past: good or bad - all of those were things that hands knew. A rough palm told stories of its own, the scent of a hand uncovered the recent past, the warmth or coldness of it indicated either where a person had been or what they'd been holding. Every callus was a moment of repetition and every scar a blocked bid for life.
